


That One Time Connor Wasn't a Bitch To Zoe

by Anzieizna



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Big brother Connor, I don't think, Other, absolutely no evan, also rolling with that 'connor is an artist' headcanon, and I love it, balance between good and bad connor, because he's not this mystical angel, because it's awesome, have no fear: connor is here to save the day, he's still himself, it's literally just bonding, let me check, no evan, nope - Freeform, zoe sucks at art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 04:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anzieizna/pseuds/Anzieizna
Summary: Normally, Connor would ignore her and go to his room with a slam of his door and a ‘fuck off’ if Larry heard him. This time, the teen somewhat regretted yelling at her earlier in the day. The emotion wasn’t anything new – he often regretting yelling at his mother or sister, saying things he didn’t mean in rage and helplessness. What was new to him, however, was the urge to ask for forgiveness.Connor knew his sister could never forgive him. He’d threatened to kill her more times than he could count and almost beat her once. Any bruises she had were his fault.Connor still couldn’t push away the sliver of hope.OR:Title says it all





	That One Time Connor Wasn't a Bitch To Zoe

When Connor came home that night, it was almost midnight. He’d been out in the Orchard, one of the only places he could go to get away from his family, with a bag of weed and his sketchbook.

 

So, when the teenager came home, he assumed he’d be alone. Cynthia Murphy set a strict early bed-time that was only broken by Larry, because the dick could do whatever he wanted, of course. However, even midnight was too late for the man. So, Connor thought he’d get to sneak into his room in piece.

 

Of-fucking-course that didn’t happen.

 

The moment he entered the living room he tried to make a dash for the stairs, faltering when he saw a figure in the kitchen.

 

Zoe was sitting before one of the counters, faced his way so he could see the crease in her brow. She was staring at a few pieces of paper below her that Connor guessed was homework, a pencil in her grasp that refused to touch the paper. The streaks of blue that was in her hair was now fading. Connor felt himself frown a bit, he’d kind of liked the colour.

 

Normally, Connor would ignore her and go to his room with a slam of his door and a ‘fuck off’ if Larry heard him. This time, the teen somewhat regretted yelling at her earlier in the day. The emotion wasn’t anything new – he often regretting yelling at his mother or sister, saying things he didn’t mean in rage and helplessness. What was new to him, however, was the urge to ask for forgiveness.

 

Connor knew his sister could never forgive him. He’d threatened to kill her more times than he could count and almost beat her once. Any bruises she had were his fault.

 

Connor still couldn’t push away the sliver of hope.

 

“…Hey, Zoe.” The girl’s head shot straight up and Connor could see bags under her eyes and the frown in full power.

 

It only doubled when she saw who had talked to her. “What are _you_ doing here?”

 

Connor ignored the rough tone. He pointed to the papers. “What’s that?”

 

“Homework. Something I’d guess you’ve never even seen,” she spat.

 

The taller teen tried his best to keep from lashing out, but he still retaliated. “You know, I’m more than just a baggie of marijuana!” he said through gritted teeth.

 

“Never gave me a reason not to think that,” Zoe scoffed.

 

It took everything in Connor’s power not to yell at his sister then and there, but this was the longest conversation either of them had had that didn’t end in blood.

 

There were a few moments of silence that was anything but awkward. No, instead it held sizzling anger under a surface, one that neither teen didn’t want to break but weren’t sure if they _couldn’t_.

 

After another minute or two of Zoe trying to murder the paper with her eyes, Connor spoke up. “Need help with that?”

 

His sister glanced up, narrowing her eyes. It looked as if she was torn between two: her pride and everlasting-hate for her shitty older brother, and the need to finish this homework and pass a grade. In the end, she gave a light sigh. “It’s art homework. Don’t know how well you’ll be able to help with that.”

 

A small smile grew on Connor’s face. “Depends on the task.” Without waiting for an invitation, he grabbed a chair and sat directly opposite Zoe; he didn’t trust himself to sit beside her in case he erupted. He turned the top paper around, which was just blank, and looked at Zoe again. “What’re you doing?”

 

The girl hesitated for a few seconds before giving in. She passed another sheet to him and he saw a few bullet points which detailed what she was supposed to do. She explained it anyway. “We’re supposed to draw a portrait of a historical painter. I’m usually good with art but human faces are hard,” she explained.

 

“Who you drawing?”

 

“The famous one.” Connor raised an eyebrow. “You know, the guy who chopped off his ear.” The eyebrow raised even further.

 

He coughed. “Uh, you mean Vincent van Gogh?”

 

“No, no,” Zoe shook her head. “The Vinci guy! What’s his name?” Connor stared at his sister. A blink. Another blink. “What?”

 

“The guy who chopped off his ear? Who painted _The Starry Night_? That was van Gogh.”

 

Zoe’s face twisted into confusion, an ‘oh’ escaping from her mouth before she shook her head. “Well. Whatever. I’m meant to sketch him out or something but I can’t draw faces.”

 

Connor nodded his head, stealing Zoe’s pencil and ignoring her protest. “Oh, that’s easy,” he said, before lowering the pencil to the blank paper.

 

A few minutes passed by where Connor was engrossed in the sketch, thin lines gliding across the drawing. Portraits were some of his favourite things to do, yet he barely had anyone to practise on, and drawing his own face only filled him with bitterness and disgust. So, the boy mostly took to drawing still life and landscapes if he wasn’t drawing patterns on his scarred arms.

 

Eventually there was a simple outline of the man. It was faced two thirds to the viewer, like most of his self-portraits, and didn’t have any colour except the messy lines.

 

Connor pulled himself out of the trance, reminding himself that he was doing this for his sister. “So, yeah,” he began awkwardly. “I just did a sketch that you can draw on top of ‘cause I don’t know what tone or colour or style you’re meant to do it in or just the fact that you said you’re… not…” Connor trailed off as he saw his sister staring wide-eyed at him, an expression he’d never seen in her eyes. He frowned instinctively, putting his walls back up as he curled into himself. “What.”

 

Zoe seemed to snap out of her staring. She looked down at the drawing, turning it around to gaze at the sketch. “Uh. Thanks, a lot.” A shy and hesitant smile appeared on her face and Connor had to fight back returning the expression. “I didn’t expect you of all people to help me-“ Connor flinched and his eyes fell down. “Oh, uh, wait…”

 

The teen shook his head, sending a fake smile towards his sister. “Nah, it’s fine. I deserve it.” Zoe frowned as Connor gave another sigh, standing up and preparing to leave.

 

He went without another word, but before he could climb the stairs a voice called out again, “I-uh, I didn’t know you like to draw.”

 

The older Murphy sibling paused, glancing over his shoulder. Zoe was half-leaning against the arched doorway that led to the kitchen. Her eyes were flickering between Connor and his sketch, biting her lip in hesitation.

 

He scoffed. “None of you know anything about me.”

 

Like a light-switch, his little sister turned back to her previous self. She stood up, her face a blank mask and the hopeful emotion gone from her eyes. “Yeah. Right, obviously.” Her tone was a void once more, laced with carelessness and irritation as she turned back to the kitchen.

 

Connor cursed himself. For once, he and Zoe were actually getting along – or, at least, they weren’t fighting – and he just _had_ to mess it up, didn’t he? Connor’s a fucking idiot.

 

“Zoe!” He called out in a last attempt. When the girl glanced back, however, he couldn’t think of anything. Fucking awesome. His brain drew a blank at any topic and his mouth hung.

 

A few seconds passed by until Zoe’s eyes rolled and she turned around, ready to go when-

 

“You gonna recolour your hair?”

 

The girl paused. “What?”

 

Connor lifted a hand. “The blue in your hair’s gone. It looked kinda nice... You gonna do it again?”

 

A few minutes of silence passed between them, Zoe lifting a finger to twist in the tips of her hair. “Uh,” she began before her expression softened and the corners of her lips curled upwards. “I was thinking about it, yeah…”

 

Connor nodded awkwardly. “Well. You should… yeah.”

 

With another awkward nod she turned away, the hints of a smile on her face.


End file.
